4 Reasons to Never Let Bruce Wayne Go Shopping Alone
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: Good morning, Gotham! Do I ever have some juicy gossip to share with you today! You will never believe what the Waynes have been up to now!
1. Chapter 1

**4 Reasons to Never Let Bruce Wayne Go Shopping Alone  
**

**A Word**: Yeah, I just wanted bby!Jason to be dog piled for hugs. By as many siblings as possible.

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Hello, Gotham! Do I have a juicy bit of information for you today! I recently took tea with young Selina Wayne and had a chance to get to the heart of this startling business the Wayne's have been up to lately.

The Wayne manor is as stately and elegant as ever, and Mrs. Wayne is in top form when she receives me. Modest pleasantries aside, for the sake of my dear readers, I'm quick to cut to the chase with Selina. "So, really Selina. Four!?"

Selina smiles like a Bodhisattva as she offers me a tall glass of minty iced tea. "Yes, well, I've always known it was a bad idea to let Bruce go shopping on his own. So I only have myself to blame for this."

"Are you saying Bruce impulse bought four children?" I ask, knowing that with Bruce's rather flaky history that is very likely the truth of the matter!

"Perhaps," Selina's smile turns absolutely fond, and makes me rather doubt the stories circulating about Mr. Wayne's residence in the dog house lately. "We'd known for a week we were going to take Richard in."

Naturally! Given Bruce's own past it was certain that the grisly image of that poor boy losing his family would tug at something in the man's heart! The Wayne's decision to adopt young Richard Grayson was a shock to very few in Gotham I'm sure.

"It was my mistake to send Bruce to the orphanage alone to finish the paper work and bring our son home. You see, when he arrived he saw Richard playing with little Cassandra and I'm afraid his heart couldn't take getting between them."

"Of course," and Wayne manor certainly has more than enough room for two children. "Forgive me, but Cassandra is-"

"Our dark haired girl. The shy one," Selina answers graciously. "Stephanie is our light haired girl. Bruce was almost finished filling out the forms for Cassandra when Stephanie forced her way into the office and very firmly informed him that he wasn't going to take her sister away from her."

"Assertive little thing, isn't she?"

"That she is," Selina's voice is dry and hints at how assertive the child can be. "I'm just happy that Bruce was able to get out of the orphanage after that without anyone else demanding to be adopted."

"Oh," I ask, surprised, "but what about the fourth child? Didn't Bruce adopt all the children on the same day?"

"He did," Selina smiles, and it's a touch wry as she sips from her iced tea. "Bruce found Jason outside the orphanage stealing the hubcaps off his car, and thought he might as well get a full set of boys since he already had two girls."

"Oh, my!" It startles one to hear of the things that young children are often forced to do in these times. Startles and sickens, and my heart breaks at the untold story of poor little Jason Todd. Undoubtedly just the same as Bruce Wayne's did that day. "It's so touching what the two of you have done for these children, but does it not get a little-"

My question is cut off by a not so distant shriek. A young boy runs through the room, dodging the couch we are sitting on, and _screaming_ at the top of his lungs, "Don't touch me you circus freak!"

An older boy is quick on his heels, and is easily identifiable as Richard Grayson when he _flips_ over my very own head and neatly tackles the young man, who must be Jason Todd, to the carpet "No! Hug me!"

The younger boy struggles and throws out words that quite frankly no child should know but does not get free. Two adorable little girls round the couch and, giggling, throw themselves on top of the pile. The blonde girl is chanting in an adorable little voice, "Hugs! Hugs! Hugs!"

"Get off me!" Young Jason yells though he's no longer visible under the tangle of children limbs on the floor. "You're all elephants! How fat are you!?"

"Mistress Selina," a calm voice drags my attention away from the clamoring mass. Mr. Pennyworth offers a tray with two fresh glasses of tea and a small bottle of Motrin.

Selina, the darling that she is, accepts the drink but declines the tablets saying only, "Thank you, Alfred, but I believe I'm getting used to it now."

And, really, isn't that the way true parenthood is? Well, I'm out of space now, my dear readers. So, until next time!

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	2. Reason Number One

**Reason Number One  
**

**A Word**: Nothing more to see here.

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It goes like this:

Bruce and Selina Wayne are among 121 people crowded into the stifling main tent when the Graysons fall to their deaths.

The silence is deafening. Broken abruptly by a high pitched cry as a small, brightly colored figure darts into the center ring. A boy, nimbly evading the reaching hands trying to stop him. Blue eyes fixed on the still forms and the slowly spreading pool of blood.

Dick Grayson is a mere foot away from his parents when Bruce Wayne snatches the boy up. Wrapping his arms around the struggling boy and turning them both away from the gruesome sight. Men rush past them. Barely a glance spared for the man and boy as Bruce slowly kneels. Not letting the now shaking boy go.

Bruce says nothing as Dick breaks down in his arms. The fight going out of him as he clings to a stranger and cries. Memories rise in his mind, dark and overwhelming. Held at bay only by the child he holds and the cool hands that squeeze his hands as Selina kneels before them. Unmindful of the dirt staining her elegant dress as she wraps the boy in her shawl, thick with perfume, and the words Bruce himself can't bear to say.

Dick is taken from them. Still shocky with red eyes, and not letting go of the blue silk scarf that is Selina's favorite. Bruce feels Selina reach for him. Her smaller fingers lacing with his own as she pulls him out of the nearly empty tent. Through the deserted circus and its funeral pall. The parking lot is empty, the audience long gone.

Alfred stands ready. The car Bruce himself had driven nowhere in sight as he holds the door for them.

Bruce starts to breathe again as he settles into the butter soft leather and Selina curls herself up under his right arm. The soft curls of her hair pressing under his jaw as much a comfort as Alfred's silent presence. "Selina-"

"Hush," she presses a quick kiss to his neck and pulls his arm tighter around her. The faint glow of her phone shows him she's frowning as she types something out, and Bruce only now realizes that she must have been typing for a while. Her manicured nails clack against the screen at a rapid rate. "You're going to have to talk to Lucius about those lawyers you pay so much money for. They're complaining far too much about the time of the night for how much they earn."

From the front Alfred lets out a small noise that is both agreement and amusement. The night darkens around them as they leave the harshly lit circus behind. "Be that as it may, their delay does give me time to set up a room for the young boy. I doubt the young Master will be released officially for at least two days. Perhaps more if depending on what the doctors say."

"_Our_ doctors," Selina interjected, fingers still flying across the phone screen. "It'll make the adoption process easier."

Bruce smiled down at his wife and looked up to see Alfred's fond gaze slip away from the rear view mirror. There were days when he felt awed at the small family he'd managed to hold onto, and tonight -as they went about adding another to their household- was no exception.

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	3. Reason Number Two

**Reason Number Two  
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**A Word**: Ibid.

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Dealing with CPS was a nightmare even with a full cadre of lawyers and Bruce Wayne's full political and social clout to ease the way. Attempts had to be made to find any of Dick's family. Any friends of his parents who might have guardian status over the boy. And then there was the funeral, a private affair amongst the circus workers who firmly pushed out any incursions from the public.

It was a nerve wracking week for Bruce. Punctuated by brief moments a sad relief. There were no other living Graysons to be found. No legal guardian to contend with. Dick was alone in the world. Alone for the shortest time Bruce could manage.

Selina offered to go with him but Bruce wanted to do this alone. Needed to do this himself.

There were few facilities for orphaned children in Gotham, and none of them were in the best of places. It was no fault of the homes or the system. It just required far too much money to build in an area only likely to be considered good for a few years. The money was often better spent on the children anyway.

Bruce didn't blink as he pulled up to the rundown building. The graffiti covered walks or the small piles of trash that gathered against the chain link fence. The windows had curtains and he heard laughter coming from a few open ones. This home was temporary for many of the children inside but it was a warm and living one. Camille Wirth made sure of that.

"Mr. Wayne," Camille greeted him with a smile and a warm hug. Her greying hair swept up into a bun, and her dark face creasing with her fondness. "Thank you for coming in. It means a lot. It- Well, you understand."

"Yes, Ma'am," Bruce clung, just a little as he swallowed thickly. Remembering the first time he'd met Camille. Much younger but still so warm and caring to a shell-shocked little boy newly alone in the world. "How, how has he been?"

"Oh, that child is doing just fine," Camille pulled back to smile sadly up at him. Fingers fussing with his jacket. "He's mourning. Don't doubt that, but the boy's an active type. Sad doesn't come naturally to him. He's been playing with all the little ones. Making them laugh and forget a bit. It helps him too I think."

Good. Maybe. Bruce still isn't sure how he's going to handle this. How he's going to handle a child. How he's going to handle _his_ son. "Dear god, I'm going to be a father."

It sinks in, on the steps of Camille's home, exactly what Bruce (and Selina and Alfred) have been doing.

"You'll do just fine," Camille laughs. Loud and hearty as she threads her arm around him. Using her body to gently turn him and lead him inside. "Let's go talk with Dick now."

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Camille leaves him with a little more fussing and some gentle words.

Dick is in a small play room filled with toys for the really young kids. He's entertaining a solemn looking little girl with hand puppets. She looks about six, dressed in a dress that doesn't hide the fading green of bruises climbing her legs and arms. Her hair is brutally short. A butterfly hairclip emphasizing it and suggesting the length wasn't by choice. Her dark eyes wide as he makes one swoop close to her face. Making her giggle and reach for the brightly colored doll.

It's apparent when the two become aware of Bruce lurking in the door. Dick stutters a high-pitched proclamation and gives Bruce a worried look. The girl-

The girl shuts down. There is no other word for what he sees happening with the child. The smile and giggles are gone so quickly and completely that Bruce finds himself striding into the room to sit cross legged on the floor in front of her. Hunching his shoulders and ducking his head. Putting himself down close to the same level she's at. Her stare is sharp and far too wary for a girl her age to have.

"Hey," he says taking in the two now limp puppets and the way Dick is biting his lip. More worried about the girl than himself for the moment. "What are we doing?"

"I'm telling the story of the princess who could save herself," Dick recovers nicely and holds up a doll with a tiara glued on and a fabric sword tied onto her hand with a shoelace. The other looks like a prince with a cape and obviously empty hand. "Here," Dick shoves the prince doll into Bruce's hand. "The princess has just slain the dragon."

"Alright," Bruce solemnly nods and clears his throat. The girl's eyes are fixed on him now. Something puzzled and curious in them. Pitching his voice deep and gravely he folds the doll to look like it's on it's knees. "Oh, mighty princess. Thank you for saving me from that mean and awful dragon! It was very smelly."

Dick tries for a high voice and only succeeds because if his age. The princess doll twirls and comes to life in his hands. "Think nothing of it fair prince! That dragon was no match for my mighty sword for I am the best sword fighter in all the lands."

The prince grovels and dumpers appropriately. And the girl relaxes bit by bit. Uncurling from herself and leaning into the story of adventure that Dick leads. Bruce follows as best he can. Ignoring the itch in his throat from changing his voice for so long. It's a small inconvenience. A small price to pay to see that small little smile come back.

She's giggling and reaching for the princess again when Camille comes back. A slim folder in her hands and a radiant smile as she sees them playing.

Dick stutters again and looks nearly panicked for a brief second before his smile comes back. Full force as he relinquishes the princess. The girl doesn't notice as she makes the doll wave it's sword arm.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on Cassandra for me, Dick," she reaches down and places a comforting hand on Dick's shoulder. "Let's take her back to Stephanie and go to the Blue Room. Okay?"

Dick looks crushed and Bruce turns his attention to Cassandra. Happily playing with the doll and leaning, slightly, against his right leg. She gives him a shy smile when he reaches out to smooth a hand over her hair.

Bruce smiles up at Camille, already composing an argument in his mind, as he says, "How about Cassandra comes with us?"

Camille blinks. Her eyes turning sharp as she looks at him first and Duck second. Dick's eyes are wide as he stares at Bruce. "Why not? Dick, could you-"

"Yes, Mrs. Camille," Dick scrambles to his feet and holds his arms out. "C'mon, Cass. Let's go to the Blue Room."

Cass giggles all the way out as Dick slings her over his shoulders and gallops out. Making realistic horse noises each time she squeals.

"Bruce," Camille frowns as he stands up. It's a sad and weary frown. "Cassandra is a touchy child. Her situation isn't like Dick's. The strain-"

"I understand," Bruce frowns because no, he actually _doesn't_ and the look Camille gives him says she knows that. "Alright, I don't, but," Bruce holds up the battered prince doll, "you said helping others helps Dick, and I can see what you meant by that now. It'd be cruel to take only Dick and expect him to be alright all alone. I think he needs more than what Selina and I can offer. Someone like Cass, a little sister."

Camille sighs and closes her eyes. Weary and worn, but she's smiling when she opens them again. "Alright. Let's get to the Blue Room and make sure your kids don't do too much damage."

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End file.
